Chapter 5 #2
“There has to be a way,” I breathe, barely hearing my own voice over the rush of blood in my ears. I step forward before I can think better of it, pressing my hands against the hedge. The bark is rough beneath my palms, the branches dense and unyielding, scratching at my skin as I push harder.
I start moving along it, dragging my hands across every inch, searching.
Feeling.
The others are talking behind me, voices tight, urgent, but it all fades into the background. I focus on the hedge. On the texture. On anything that doesn’t feel the same. Everything feels solid. Normal.
My fingers catch on a thorn, sharp enough to draw blood, but I don’t pull away. I keep going, breathing too fast, heart pounding harder with every step.
Come on. Come on.
“We need to head back the way we came–” Oberon begins.
“There isn’t another way out,” Sylvian interrupts. “The answer has to be here. Remember, we’ve found a way through the hedges before. We can do it again.”
I press harder, forcing my hands deeper into the branches, ignoring the way they scrape and bite at my skin. Then… something shifts.
It’s faint. Subtle. Not a gap I can see, but something I can feel. The branches aren’t as tight here. There’s a give to them, just barely there, like the hedge thins for a split second before closing in again.
I freeze.
Slowly, carefully, I move my hands back over the same spot. This time I pay attention to every detail, every difference. The way the branches bend just a little easier. The way the air feels different against my fingers.
There. My breath catches. It’s something.
I push my fingers deeper, wincing as the thorns bite, but I don’t stop. The branches shift, resisting at first, then parting just enough to reveal it, a narrow opening. Hidden. Almost impossible to see unless you’re right on top of it.
Hope strikes so hard it makes me dizzy.
“Here!” I shout, as I shove the branches apart wider. “Over here! There’s a way through!”
Oberon is on me instantly, his hand firm on my arm, already pushing me toward the opening. “Go,” he orders, leaving no room for argument.
“But I can—” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Now, Alette.”
There’s no time to fight him on it. The ground shudders violently beneath us, the roar behind us so loud it feels like it’s inside my skull.
Strong hands shove me forward. I stumble into the gap, branches catching immediately, thorns biting into my skin as I force my way through. The space is tighter than it looked, the hedge resisting me like it doesn’t want to let me pass. It snags my clothes, scrapes my arms, drags at my hair.
For a second, I think I’m stuck.
Panic spikes, sharp and blinding.
“Move!” Ashton’s voice snaps from behind me, urgency cutting through everything.
I push harder, ignoring the sting, ignoring the way the branches fight me, forcing myself through inch by inch until I break free.
I stumble forward into open space, breath tearing out of my lungs as I catch myself on shaking legs.
Cool air stings my skin, sharp and real, but I barely feel it as I spin around.
“Come on,” I breathe, heart hammering as I watch the hedge.
Sylvian slips through first, quick and controlled, barely slowed by the branches. Ashton follows right behind him, less graceful, swearing under his breath as the hedge claws at him on the way through.
There’s a struggle on the other side, the hedge shaking as something heavy is forced toward the opening.
For a terrifying second, nothing happens, just the violent rustle of branches and the sound of strained breathing.
Then Cassius stumbles through. He nearly collapses the moment he breaks free, his body giving out as he falls forward, and Sylvian is there instantly, catching him, dragging him fully clear before he can be pulled back.
But Oberon is still on the other side. With the cyclops.
“Come on,” I breathe, my voice shaking as I stare at the hedge.
The branches thrash violently. Something massive slams into the other side. Leaves burst outward, twigs snapping, the entire wall of green bowing toward us as if it’s about to split open.
My heart lurches into my throat.
“Come on, Oberon,” I whisper.
For one horrible second, there’s nothing. No movement. No sign of him. Just the sound of something tearing through the maze behind the hedge, getting closer.
Then the branches part just enough, and Oberon forces his way through, bursting out of the gap as the hedge snaps and whips violently behind him. He stumbles forward a step, then catches himself, already turning back toward the opening.
A massive shape slams into the other side.
The hedge bulges outward again, violently, a huge hand punching through just far enough to tear leaves free before the branches snap back into place, closing the gap completely.
The roar that follows is deafening, shaking the hedge walls around us with pure fury.
Heavy footsteps slam against the earth behind us, branches rattling violently as the cyclopes crash toward the opening we barely escaped through.
Then, suddenly, the sound cuts off. Completely.
One second there’s rage and destruction pounding through the labyrinth, and the next there’s only silence.
The hedge behind us seals shut, thick branches twisting together so tightly it’s like the passage never existed at all.
My chest still feels tight as I stare at it, my pulse hammering.
The cyclopes are gone. Sealed away behind the magic of the labyrinth. At least for now.
I take a shaky step back from the hedge, my legs unsteady, and the others gather in close without thinking, forming a loose, uneven circle. No one speaks. We just breathe. Harsh and uneven.
Then Ashton lets out a breath that turns into a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Well,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair, “that went terribly.”
A weak huff of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. It feels wrong. It feels too light for everything we just went through, but it bubbles up anyway, sharp and shaky.
“We’re alive,” Sylvian says, his voice quieter, steadier, though I can hear the exhaustion beneath it.
“Barely,” Cassius adds, his tone dry, even as he leans more of his weight into Sylvian to stay upright.
Oberon glances back at the hedge, jaw tight, still listening for pursuit. “Don’t get comfortable,” he says, but there’s something different in his voice now. Relief, buried deep.
“What I wouldn’t give for a warm bath, a big chunk of meat, and a glass of wine,” Ashton mutters.
That earns another faint laugh, this one from Sylvian, softer, like he didn’t expect it either.
For a moment, it almost feels normal. Like we’ve survived something together. Like maybe we can survive the next thing too.
I drag in a breath, deeper this time, trying to calm myself, trying to let that fragile sense of relief settle into my bones… and then the ground shifts beneath us.
It happens so suddenly I don’t even have time to react. The earth gives way with a sharp crack, the surface collapsing beneath our feet like it was never solid to begin with.
“Wait—” I gasp, reaching for something, anything… and then I’m falling.
The drop is abrupt and disorienting, the world ripping away as the air rushes past me. Darkness swallows everything, the brief glimpse of the others disappearing as we’re torn apart by the fall.
My stomach lurches violently, weightless and spinning, and then the ground slams into me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Pain explodes through my body, sharp and immediate, leaving me gasping, unable to pull in air.
I can’t move. Can’t think. All I can do is lie there, fighting for breath, my hands scraping against rough earth as reality crashes back in around me.
We’re not safe.
Not even close.
“Is everyone—” I try to say, but the words barely make it out before I suck in a sharp breath, my ribs protesting as I push myself up.
“Alette?”
Oberon is there first, just barely visible in the moonlight.
I don’t even see him move, but suddenly he’s in front of me, one hand gripping my arm, the other hovering like he doesn’t know where he can touch without hurting me. His eyes move over me quickly, searching, checking for something worse than what he can see.
“Are you hurt?” he demands, his voice rough, too tight.
“I’m fine,” I manage, though it comes out breathless. Everything aches, my body screaming from the impact, but nothing feels broken. “Just… sore.”
“That’s not fine,” Ashton mutters, already crouching on my other side. His hands hover near my shoulders, then my arms, like he’s trying to assess without actually hurting me more. “You hit hard. Sorry, if I wasn’t so… spent, I could’ve used air to soften your fall.”
Sylvian steps in closer, his expression focused, careful as his gaze tracks over me the same way Oberon’s did. “Can you move?” he asks gently.
I nod, forcing myself to shift, wincing as I push to my feet. My legs hold, shaky but solid. “I can move.”
There’s a visible release of tension between them, subtle but there.
Oberon’s jaw tightens anyway, like he doesn’t trust it. “Tell us if anything at all feels off,” he says, quieter now, but no less firm.
I nod again, and only then do they pull their attention away.
“Cassius?” Sylvian calls, turning.
“Still alive,” Cassius answers, his voice strained but controlled.
We all turn toward him.
He’s slumped against the wall of the pit, one knee bent, his head tipped back against the stone. Even in the dim light spilling down from above, I can see how pale he is, how drawn his features have become. He looks… spent. Like whatever strength he had left is barely holding him together.
Sylvian moves to him immediately, crouching at his side. Ashton follows, slower now, the strain of everything catching up to him.
“You with us?” Ashton asks, his voice quieter than usual.
Cassius huffs out something that might be a laugh. “Unfortunately.”
A quick pulse of relief moves through me, faint but real.